after: the spell is cast
luck bars immortality
eventually
your toes will wear down to stubs and you will crawl
blindly
seeking to feed again upon the light: be
there
night, instead of this
eternal
bliss

as your janitor i would like to inform you :
i don't do
windows or cobwebs : it's
for love of the spiderlight I might
occasionally take one down
if it touched me : otherwise let them hang
in majesty
over my relatively
clean floors : catching
dust, and flies
and making a spectral
Alhambra of my skies
seen from
within: from
the outside, i just look like a messy old man

You are alone in a stupor - has the poplar ahead of you
lost its shadow or did an earthquake shatter your snooze?
The cracks in this world are not filled with earth;
you understand that, and also you know where time vanishes.

In the wild Orpheus mountains
the setting sun is a naked, dismembered
corpse... and in the dark, the sun murmurs
in the poet's own voice: Life, always life!

Are you happy? Life moves on, straightforward and familiar.
It doesn't worry you. That cruel question
of time - never crosses your mind ...

The earth still bleeds from every pore.
She, the damned, mythical barrel,
and we, alas, the Danaides!